She's Dirty Dancing
by SweetRebellion101
Summary: It was only a one-time thing. So why can't I get you out of my head? Fem!France/Fem!Japan. Nyotalia AU. Request by my Hetalia-buddy, Erin.  : Rated T for Sexual Refrence, Fracoise being a flirt.


**This couple needs more love! ): It's so dang cute~! It's Fem!France/Fem!Japan, as suggested by my friend Erin, who is a mega Hetalia-tard. So, I guess, this is for her! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Nyotalia, whatever.**

**Anyways, enjoy!**

It was one hell of a party, let me say that. I expected nothing less from the master, Miss Emily F. Jones. It was a truly head-spinning night, and everything went out of control when the alcohol was passed out. My memory was blurry, as I tried to recall the previous night. People were laughing, truth or dare, dancing, grinding, sex. That was summing it up into one messy collaboration of a sentence. So, what was new? I was _the _Francoise Bonnefoy, party-go-er extravagant. I, however, didn't expect to wake up in some unknown bed with no clue where I was.

My head swerved, groaning in annoyance at the invading light that peered through the blinds. The hangover was taking it's toll, as it always did after a large amount of alcohol intoxicated people. My head spun in random directions, and I lifted myself with my elbows holding me up, realizing I wasn't clothed.

My attention was averted to the _other _person occupying the bed. And said person was biting her nails, and looking ahead with a worried gleam in her eyes. The girl resembled a Japanese doll, as cute and meek as she was. She was always so quiet, despite being friend with the loud-mouthed American. She wasn't a well-known friend to me, but I see her around a lot, either following that robust German and the clueless Italian, or speaking briefly with Emily. Her bob-cut black hair was messy, and similar to me, she wasn't dressed in any clothes either. She held up the sheets to cover up her exposed flesh.

Do the math, if you hadn't already. Pretty obvious.

"W-we didn't actually…" she began in a squeaky voice, probably struck dumb by the previous night's event.

"I believe we did," I replied with a smirk, "So, what might your name be?" I didn't seem to recall her name, oddly enough.

"Kiki Honda," she replied, looking at me, "Gomenasai, I had to go!" She turned around, and grabbed her panties and bra from the floor, slipping them on quickly, and dressing in a grey sweatshirt and jeans. She stumbled to her feet, and grabbed her purse, stuffing things into it.

"I-I'm terribly sorry," she told me.

"About what?"

"About last night. I had lost my senses, and I didn't know what I was doing, a-and-"

"No need to worry. Why are you in such a hurry, hm? Why not stay here with me, and we can do a continuation of last night~" I spoke as I used a seductive smile.

Her face flushed to a tomato-red, "T-that's inappropriate! W-we barely know each other, it is wrong!" she stammered hastily.

"Oh? So you _didn't _enjoy last night?" I inquired curiously.

She shook her head vigorously, "No, that isn't what I meant, I-"

"Your so endearing when your flustering," I chuckled, and her face turned a darker red.

"I have to leave!" she squeaked, and she hurried out the door without a second glance. I sat in the bedroom, not even wondering whose bedroom it belonged to (Emily's, probably), petrified by the girl's behavior. Why did she have to be some damn cute? It was such a troubling thing. They did attend the same school, and perhaps they would meet up again, on account that she didn't move schools or any of the like.

"What a way to start a morning," I felt myself heave a sigh, and I sat up-right on the bed, running my fingers absentmindedly through my blond, silky hair. I was a genuine French beauty, minus the slight flaws in my personality. Some people might call me too flirt for my own good, and others would call me an "imprudent bimbo" (Mostly Alice). If I were to give my biased opinion of myself, I would say that I was the prettiest thing that lived. But, that was _my _opinion.

I took my clothes from the floor, slipping them on. A short skirt and a ruffled blouse, tying my hair behind me in a ponytail. I slipped on some shoes, and stretched, making my way to the door. What a night it had been! Although my memory was vague, I remembered looking down at the girl's blushing face, as she moaned with pleasure. I remembered her soft lips that tasted of cherry (since I could still taste the flavor that was a treat for my tongue).

I abruptly remembered how this was in fact an accident, and that it meant nothing. I had been through many one-night-stands in my lifetime, some of them were terrible, and some were fine. But if I were to pick out the best of them, last night would take the cake. Oh, look at myself! I'm talking like some hormonal school-girl! Me, Francoise, going on like a love-struck child. I needed a drink of wine to refresh myself. I would have to just forget about this incident.

Slipping out of the room, I made my way through the hall, finding Emily's tired self lazily sitting at one of the stools near the kitchen, gulping down coffee. "Freaking sweet party," she said.

"More like _wild_," I commented.

"Anything cool happen?" Emily asked casually, drinking down another dose of the substance.

"Oh, you bet," I answered with a laugh. And the thought of Kiki ran through my mind once again, refusing to leave whenever I tried to rid of it.

"I'm going home. I could use a glass of wine," I grumbled, and Emily raised her brow, but didn't question me. I turned around to leave, rubbing my temple.

I can not get Kiki Honda out of my head.

**Please R&R! (:**


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